


Lambtrick WIP

by Vera



Category: NSYNC
Genre: M/M, WIP
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2004-03-15
Updated: 2004-03-14
Packaged: 2017-10-02 05:41:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,097
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3164
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vera/pseuds/Vera
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Justin didn't think he could blush so much, but it's okay because Lance isn't looking at his face.</p>
          </blockquote>





	1. You're dirty sweet and you're my boy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Justin didn't think he could blush so much, but it's okay because Lance isn't looking at his face.

Their legs are goose-bumped with cold and tight with tension and oh-my-God sensation but they don't want to get under the covers because uncensored looking is too much too good. There's creeping cold through the window glass, but their faces and hands and dicks are burning up. Justin didn't think he could blush so much, but it's okay because Lance isn't looking at his face, he's watching his hand move on Justin and the difference between your own hand and someone else's hand, Lance's hand, tentative and confident by turns, eager and shy both is so far beyond what he ever imagined he thinks he might die. But, hopefully, not before he comes.

"Justin. Justin." Lance sounded like treacle and hearing his own name, like that, like lust, did it and he shook and thrust once in Lance's hand, smooth like a dance move and sharp like a conclusion and it's over, slick all over Lance's hand and he can hear himself breathe now, deep and rough, catching on the back of his throat.

"Yeah. Ah, just. Here." He grabbed his discarded underwear and offered them to Lance.

"I'm not wiping my hand on those. Here." Cooling spunk was smeared across his belly, slimy and horrible and Lance's hand tickled. He leapt at Lance, holding his shoulders and trying to pin him to the bed, Lance wriggling and laughing under him, working his hands around to Justin's ass.

"Hey, hey. Justin. Stop."

"Why? I'm winning."

"Because it's my turn."

There's a hot guy under him, hips pressing up with a half-polite request for his attention and maybe wrestling Lance into submission is something he can do another day. He slides off, pushing one arm further under Lance's shoulders and petting Lance's chest with his other hand.

"Your turn, huh?"

Lance is trying to hide his smile but his poker face is on the floor with jeans and shirts. He pushes Justin's hand down until he can wrap them both around his dick. "C'mon, baby. Fair."

"Don't call me baby." But Lance's face is pressed to his shoulder he's feeling "baby, baby, like that" in his bones.

Later, after they showered and realised how cold the room was, after they're snuggled in their beds, Justin lay awake for a while, watching Lance sleep.

 

Cold this cold, Justin had decided, was unnatural. His burger and hot chocolate were keeping his hands warm but he guessed he'd look weird holding them against his ears. He slid along the bench, closer to the warmth of Lance. Across the park, Joey was talking to a girl, helping feeding squirrels. Chris and JC were tripping over each other, trying to kick a soccer ball they'd found, and failing miserably. Watching them, it was hard to believe they were precision dancing machines.

"Guy at 2 O'clock, red jacket," Lance said, "a seven."

Tall and dark-haired? Check. Long-legged? Check. With his reserve lifted by their mutual hand-jobs, Lance had cut loose and shared almost every dirty thought that crossed his mind. Justin soon worked out that Lance had a type. It was boring, even if the men Lance noticed were hotties. Justin liked boys and girls, all sorts of them, as long as they were pretty and clean. He liked Lance.

"Chris is cute."

"Chris? Our Chris? Chris Kirkpatrick, Chris?" Lance squinted across the park. JC yelled as Chris tackled him, tumbling them both to the ground.

"Yeah." Justin picked at the seam of his jeans. "Chris is hot."

Lance looked sideways at him, rocked toward him and bumped shoulders. "Chris is kind of a jerk off."

Chris was bopping JC on the head with the soccer ball, while JC laughed and tried to push him off.

Justin thought of Chris's strong hands holding him down, Chris sitting on him while he squirmed and bucked, trying to get loose, but not trying too hard, Chris's eyes dark and laughing and triumphant. "Sometimes. Maybe."

"But a hot jerk off?" Lance put his hand on Justin's thigh and slid it upwards a couple of inches. "How hot?"

"Lance." Without thinking, Justin moved his burger and drink down to his knees, providing some slim cover. "Don't."

"How hot?" His dick knew the touch of Lance's familiar fingers anywhere on his skin, the pressure transmitted along the muscles of this thighs and into his crotch. Lance's hands. His ears prickled, he didn't feel the cold anymore.

"I have to go to the bathroom." He looked around the park, there had to be one somewhere, yes, a small building, there, near leafless trees. "That bathroom. I'm going there."

"Justin. Nice boys don't hang out in public toilets." Lance started rubbing, his hand moving north. In some desperation, wobbling a little, Justin stood, pitching the remains of his meal a nearby trash can. Both Lance's hands rested innocently on his knees. Fucker, Justin thought.

"You better come and watch out for me."

 

JC innocently suggested the next stage of sexual experimentation.

"It would save a lot of hassle," he said, "if you could just blow yourself."

"Ew."

Chris smacked Lance over the head. "What, ew? Don't you wash? You'd let a girl do something you're too good to do?"

"But why would anyone do that? It's disgusting." From behind Chris, Justin was looking at him with wide eyes, his lips in a tight line. Oh. Oh. But Chris wasn't letting his comment lie.

"What would you know, virgin."

"Hey, Chris. Easy." Joey stretch out his hand, as though he could pull the mean words from between them.

"It's okay, Joey. Maybe Chris doesn't understand that some of us care where we put it."

Application of a sudden irresistible force - Joey's arm around his shoulders - propelled him out of the room. As the door closed behind them he could hear Justin start in on Chris.

Joey didn't stop moving until they were in his hotel room. It was neater than Lance and Justin's - the JC effect, he guessed. Joey made him sit down on one of the beds, then dug into his bag and pulled out chocolate. Sitting beside to Lance, he broke it in half and gave Lance the bigger bit.

"Thanks." Maybe he wouldn't put anything in his mouth ever again.

"You know Chris doesn't mean it. He just gets that way."

"Mean? Inappropriate? Stupid?"

"Hyperactive and thoughtless."

"He hates me."

"No, he doesn't." Joey paused and seemed unusually interested in the wall.

It didn't matter. Nothing mattered like Justin's expression mattered. Chris could take a flying leap off a tall cliff.

His fingers met through the melting chocolate, so he had to eat it before it fell onto his shirt.

"Chris can just fuck off and leave me alone."

"Lance? Yeah. Sometimes you're kinda condescending to Chris. It's possible, maybe, he sort of thinks you don't like him."

"What? He what? He picks on me. All the time. Okay then, I don't. I don't like him. Fuck Chris, I don't like him."

"No, hey, no. It's okay. Come on, it's okay." Joey slid his arms around Lance and rubbed his stiff back.

"Fight back like Justin does. Chris understands that. He doesn't get your way."

"Why do I have to change what I do?"

"Sometimes you just do. Compromise, right? It's how teams work. We're gonna be a great team, you know? We're gonna be great. You and Chris, you just need to understand where each other's coming from, okay?"

Inside Joey's hug, he felt like the chocolate, melting. He slid his arms around Joey and hugged back.


	2. Oxygen and oral sex to the stage, please

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Now, in the dark, in the closet, waiting for them to return to their room, springing out of the closet and surprising them seemed more than a little foolish.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lambtrick, written for the [100 Ways Challenge](http://www.hazyphase.net/missedopportunities/100wayschallenge.html). Way: Voyeur
> 
> Title courtesty of Blink 182.

Bored, Chris thought. Bored bored bored. He scratched his ankle and started a new game. Since Justin had - in very certain terms - told him to cut Lance some slack, it was as if one of his favorite toys had been taken away. He wouldn't have managed to bite his tongue but Joey was running an unsubtle interference and Justin was abetting him.

Fuck, he was bored. Playing the computer was never as much fun as playing a live opponent. Justin. It was never as much fun as playing Justin. He sped his guy through the first level with only half his mind on the game.

JC was out. Joey was sleeping. Lance and Justin were huddled together on the sofa at the other end of the room, whispering and reading a magazine together. One of Justin's legs was hooked over Lance's lap, high on his thighs. He held the magazine flat, Chris couldn't see what it was. Justin pointed at something on the page and whispered; Lance's cheek's pinked and he leaned closer to Justin. Chris heard the word "tonight" but then his guy crashed and burned, and maniacal laughter drowned out everything else. When he looked back at them the magazine was gone. Fuckers. Keeping secrets from the Kirkpatrick was not on. He'd teach them the error of their secret-keeping ways.

The built in closet in their room was just like Chris's - deep, carpeted the same as the rest of the room, with mirrored doors and just tall enough for him to stand, slightly bent. Once Chris was in he realised that he hadn't planned very well. Sure, he was safely hidden in the closet. Sure, he was entirely confident that neither Lance nor Justin would bother unpacking and hanging up clothes. Sure, he was well placed to see almost all of the room by cracking the mirrored door open the slightest bit. But as he flexed his ankles and stretched his neck from side to side he realised that his plan to get out of the room once he had learned their secret was lacking something viable. Now, in the dark, in the closet, waiting for them to return to their room, springing out of the closet and surprising them seemed more than a little foolish. What if their big secret wasn't so big? What if it wasn't worth the effort of hiding and surprising? How interesting a secret could those two have anyway? Chris was just about to leave and go catch up with Joey and JC when the hall door opened and Justin and Lance came tumbling in, Lance's head caught under Justin's arm.

"Okay, okay, uncle."

Justin pushed him on to the nearest single bed and turned on the bedside lamp. Lance lay as he fell, legs akimbo and arms wide, laughing. He propped himself on his elbows and said, "But we still have to toss a coin for, you know, who gets to go first."

Justin crowded up to him, pushing his legs against Lance's thighs, blocking Chris's view of Lance. "Dunno if you get it if you can't say it, Bass."

Chris heard Lance mumble, then Justin shouted, a sharp bark of laughter. He pushed Lance's chest, forcing him back down and dug a coin out of his jeans pocket.

"Call."

"Heads." Lance snickered.

Justin caught the coin, slapped his hand over it. For a moment they just smiled at each other. Justin lifted his hand, looked at the coin and his smile faltered. Lance bounced upright, angling to get a look. He touched Justin's side, spread his hand flat and low around Justin's waist. "Heads," he said.

"Okay. I'm gonna shower. Then you really have to shower. You better be clean for this, stinky."

"We both gotta be clean, you know." Lance took the coin from Justin's hand and tossed it on the bedside table, ran his free hand down Justin's arm. " Turns."

"Yeah. Yeah. Lance?"

"Mmm?"

Justin kissed him, soft, close-lipped. "I'm gonna shower." He headed to the bathroom, kicking off his shoes as he went.

Chris watched Lance watch him until the bathroom door shut, then Lance closed his eyes and adjusted his dick. Baby boy's growing up, thought Chris and a prickle of sensation shivered over his thighs. He wanted to stand straight. He wanted to be gone from the room. Stupid, stupid hiding in closets and spying on on people. He knew now what was going to happen while trying very hard not to think it, not to picture it. Lance wasn't helping the no-thought plan as he couldn't seem to keep his hand off his dick at all, in fact he was opening his pants and then he was. Ah, no. Chris stopped breathing and wondered why his eyelids wouldn't obey his brain and fucking shut already but Lance's hand, in and out of his pants in swift jerks, had him mesmerised. As if suddenly gifted with a camera's zoom for eyesight, Lance's hand filled his field of vision; Lance's dick and come over his fingers as his hand slowed and then stopped.

A slow pulse of dizziness blurred Chris's vision and he could finally close his eyes, so he missed Lance getting rid of his clothes with costume-change efficiency. He opened them again in time to see the faint tan lines that marked Lance's thighs and arms, his skin looking baby-soft in the light from the bedside lamp, his ass high and round and unfortunately enticing as he went to join Justin in the bathroom.

Chris pinched the soft skin of his own forearm, hard. Leave, that's what he should do. Leave now and they'd never know he'd been here and he would forget what he'd just seen, never think of it ever, again. Then Justin came out of the bathroom, naked, drying his hair and that chance was lost.

Justin tossed the towel onto the end of the bed and prowled the room, moving in and out of Chris's line of sight. Chris tried not to look at all his bare skin but looking at Justin was his job. He tried to concentrate on Justin's head, but the water trailing down his neck, from his still damp hair, led his eyes down and down. Justin was fine, dandy, his body made from working out and dancing every single day.

When Lance emerged, also naked, he came and sat on the side of the bed but Justin pushed at him, shoving him back up on the bed and crawling over him, kneeling between Lance's thighs.

"I'm not kneeling on the floor," he said, rearranging Lance until apparently satisfied, he looked straight at the closet, straight at Chris. "That looks good, yeah?" Lance followed his gaze, smirking. His dick curved up over his belly, Justin's hand on his thigh next to it. "Y'always gotta have an audience? Even if it's just a mirror?"

Mirrors, Chris realised, the mirrors on the closet doors.

"If you don't study your form, how can you be the best you can be?"

Lance's turn to laugh, then, briefly. He wriggled a little, lifting his hips. "Uh?"

Justin started to bend down, then stopped close, so close to Lance, one hand on the hip furthest from Chris, the other on Lance's thigh. "Do we use a condom for this?"

"How the fuck am I supposed to know? I haven't done this before either."

Damned, thought Chris, I'm damned and I'm going to hell. His dick ached impossibly. He covered it with his hand, hips pressing forward, and bit his lip. Please, do it. Don't stop now.

"Yeah, okay." Justin bent and when he was close, looked at himself in the mirror and licked.

"Fuck, Justin, fuck," Lance breathed, the comforter twisted in his hands, his back arched.

Chris felt a desperate desire, to be where Lance was, to be where Justin was, to be closer to Justin's lewd, rough breath as he tried to work out how to suck and watch himself at the same time, to Lance's amazed face, his trembling body. Lance pushed up suddenly, moaning, and Justin pulled back, coughing and laughing and dripping. "I thought I'd know when you were gonna come," he said, wiping his face with the towel.

"Sorry. I didn't mean to be so fast. It's a hell of a lot better than being jerked off."

"That's okay. And good, because I I wouldn't want to be doing this for nothing."

Lance smiled sleepily back at Justin who climbed up him until the tip of his dick brushed against Lance's chin. "I don't know --" Lance began, turning his head. Justin rocked his hips and stroked Lance's cheek.

"Please, please like this?" He turned to the closet's mirror. "Watch," he said, low and insistent. "See?" He pushed forward, "Stick your tongue out." Lance did and Justin rubbed himself on it. His hand flexed against the wall and he lifted his himself up a little, angled and moved down, slowly, shallowly into Lance's mouth.

"It's okay, it's okay. I've thought about-- fuck, yes, Lance. Please. God. God. Lance." His hips jerked in in small circles, both hands on the wall now and his thighs flexing with effort, back arching and bowing, Lance's face scarcely visible beneath him but for his startled and hungry eyes. Chris rose to his knees, one hand on his crotch, one bracing himself against the side of the closet, brain in little pieces. _Watch_, Justin had said, _see_, and his voice had curled around Chris's balls and feathered up his dick and broken Chris across his words. Justin was all muscle rippling and flexing, his thighs, his ass, his long back, dancing on Lance's tongue and Chris danced with him. Justin cried out, pulled back and was coming over Lance's neck and shoulder, and Chris came too, messily and helplessly in his pants, like a teenager.

Then Justin was cleaning Lance with a towel, they were grinning at each other like fools. Chris was sticky, trying to breath quietly and his feet were numb. Justin tossed the towel onto the floor and lay down by Lance. "Okay," he said, "that works."

Lance smiled and rolled on to his side, getting under the covers. "Yeah. We could do that again, maybe." He wrapped his arms around his pillow and closed his eyes. "Turn off the lights."

Justin got up and into the other single bed. He fiddled with the bedside table and the room went dark, save for a slice of light from the bathroom doorway.

"We could do that again, maybe," Justin mocked, "For sure. Night, Lance. Hey, guess what? You suck."

"Only if you ask nice. And so do you. Goodnight."

In minutes they were both snoring, though it seemed painfully longer to Chris. He eased up and out of the closet. He had to stand a moment in the dark and flex his feet while feeling came back to them. He made no sound as he half stumbled to the door; neither Lance nor Justin stirred.

The door snicked softly shut behind him.


End file.
